No Magic in the Corridors!
by kiss-of-cuteness
Summary: Argus Filch didn't always know he was a squib. A story of his painful discovery and new love a.k.a kitty kat.
1. A Missing Letter

**Disclaimer: All JK's. I don't think anyone but her would want to own Filch. **

**A/NThis story is for a challenge in FictionNet, which is a forum for aspiring writers and Harry Potter fans. If you are interested in joining the url is sycotic dot org / fnet (without the spaces). Say Sierra or kissofcuteness sent you.**

**These were the conditions:**

**Write a multi-chaptered fanfiction set over Christmas at Hogwarts. ******

**It can be any generation, focusing on any characters you like, but to avoid making this too easy, here are some criteria. ******

**1. The fic must be three chapters long or more, ****  
****2. The fic cannot be a tragedy or angsty - romance, humour, maybe slight action and adventure, but no more. Make it a nice, easy Christmas fic. (For those of you who want to do a tragic one, a challenge catering to you is in the works.) ****  
****3. Include the giving of at least one Christmas present - metaphorical _or_ literal, up to you.**

**In my mind I covered them all. I would also like to extend a thank you to the lovely, kind, generous, hopefully bribable, moderators who, although the closing date for the challenge was the twenty-fifth, gave me until the fifth ( I did have wonderful excuses: believed closing date was 31st, was drunk, still dizzy the day after, stayed at computer-less grandparent's place, and was roped into spending eight hours installing and watching a movie on our big screen TV)**

**Without any further ado:**

Chapter One

A young boy sat on his rooftop; eagerly scanning the skies. He was looking for an owl, one in particular; the Hogwart's owl. Argus Filch had just turned eleven and he knew that this was his last summer at home before going to Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He didn't mind that he would be away from home for so long, his parents didn't pay all that much attention to him. His mother always talked about her days at Hogwarts; maybe they'd finally have something to talk about. Argus loved to watch his mother; she was beautiful.

She would sit in front of her vanity table every evening. First she would comb her hair, it was long, down to her waist, and black as the deepest night. The silver brush would go through it once, twice, sixty, one hundred times. Then it was silk. Argus knew his place. He would take the brush from her, holding the delicate ornament with care, and then he would give her the powder brush, while holding the powder box high enough for her to reach easily. When she had finished her ablutions she was attractive. Not pretty like a young girl, or ripe as a mature woman. Her features were not symmetrical yet they fit, strangely, into a compelling face; that was what entranced him.

There it was! A tawny owl flew towards him, looking noble as it beat its wide wings. Argus could feel the thick parchment under his fingers, knew the grain of it by heart, and could visualize the contrast between the yellow paper and the acid green ink. His friend, Perpetua Fancourt, had let him see hers.

The owl reached Argus and opened its beak to deliver the letter into Argus' outstretched hands. His heart sank as he picked up a creamy envelope, addressed with calligraphy. Another party invitation, he thought glumly, at least mother will be pleased.

"Don't worry about it darling," his mother spoke absentmindedly, rumpling his hair as if he were a small lap dog. "I've already borrowed Perpetua's letter and bought your materials from Diagon Alley. We will have to go to Ollivander's though, I suppose."

"But what about my letter?" Argus demanded. "Shouldn't I have received one?"

"Lost in the mail, it happens all the time! I nearly missed the Prewett's ball last week. Mind you, that could have been an excuse, after all I wouldn't have heard of it if Mrs. Monroe hadn't told me." She shook her long mane in annoyance. "It has been lost, don't trouble your pretty little head about it."

The trip to Diagon Alley was far from successful. Not one wand in Ollivander's store had been meant, _destined_, for him. Ollivander had become more and more gleeful as the pile of discarded wands grew larger. Unfortunately, the pile grew slightly too large, Argus had tried all the wands in the store, and none of them had given off so much as a spark.

His mother had tossed her head and promised that the Filch's would take their business elsewhere. She had however made a concession, unable to reach Gregorovich's before the school semester started; she had purchased a Common wand. Cheaper than a Wizard's wand, the Common wand worked for all wizards but was finely tuned to none. It was a temporary substitute she had assured Argus.

"Well, off you go then," his mother patted his shoulder with some affection. "If I were you I might run a little, it helps if you're nervous."

Argus was nervous. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his pants before taking the handles of the trolley firmly in his grasp. He ran. People cleared out of his way as he sprinted towards the brick wall separating platforms nine and ten. Mrs. Filch groaned. There would be a massive scene when her sun disappeared. Then, the inconceivable happened, he didn't disappear!

Argus smacked into the barrier. His body flipped over the cart and he landed hard on his back. The wind was knocked out of him and he found himself struggling with asphyxiation before he was able to sit up.

"Oh my darling!" His mother ran in her heels towards him. "What did you do? She hissed when she reached him. "Are you alright?" she called in louder tones.

"I don't know," he mumbled, "I just hit the stone."

People had begun to lose interest in the fallen boy and turned back to their previous pursuits.

"Look!" Mrs. Filch pointed towards the barrier. A golden haired girl walked blithely through it. "Oh," she frowned in annoyance. "I'll just have to take you through." Grabbing his hand she yanked him through the wall.

A/N I believe I should make reviews mandatory. Hint Hint! As a special present for me :)


	2. Nihilarian

**A/N ** **The first chapter was the longest simply because I began it in the beginning of December. This chapter and the third I wrote at midnight on the 4th of January.**

Chapter Two

Argus Filch walked slowly towards Professor Dippet's office. He knew why the Headmaster had asked to see him. Argus was failing every class, with the rating of Troll in some classes, and, thanks to numerous essays, Dreadful or Poor in others. _ It's the wand's fault_ he told himself. _Not my own._

Professor Dippet glanced up rubbing his hand over his nearly bald, pate. He had shied away from telling the boy the truth, holding onto the hope that the boy's powers might be latent; there had been a reason Argus received no Hogwarts letter.

Argus shuffled into the office. His light brown hair covered his eyes. He hoped it would hide any emotions he let slip.

"Argus," the headmaster let out a sigh, "I'm afraid I have some news that may not be pleasant. The truth is son, you're a squib."

Argus fought back tears. He had always known the truth, especially since most children showed some innate abilities. He had, with his mothers help, convinced himself that his wizarding abilities would manifest later.

"I can't go home sir," he stated with a trembling voice, "I don't know what my mother would say."

The Headmaster gave the boy a pitying glance. He had already talked to Mrs. Filch, she didn't want her son back. As a pureblood she felt no squib belonged as a member of her family. He had come up with the only solution he felt was possible. "I am prepared to apprentice you to Apollyon Pringle."

Argus didn't react. He new the man was a nihilarian, he did nothing of any importance. He couldn't go home though. "Thank you, sir."

On the way back to his dormitory Argus saw several sixth years tormenting a cat.

"_Aguamenti!"_ Streams of water hit the bedraggled kitten. It let out desperate meows.

"Stop it!" Argus yelled. "You're not allowed to use magic in the corridors!" The older boys simply laughed. "I'll tell Mr. Pringle, I will." This inspired some fear in the boys, as the old caretaker was known for occasionally resorting to fourteenth century forms of torture during detention. They broke ranks and ran down the hall, laughing all the while. Argus ran to help the grey kitten.

"Hey kitty," he murmured, trying to gain its trust. The small bundle of wet fur shrank back from his hands. "Shhh… I'm not going to hurt you. Come here." Tentatively the kitten walked towards him. He hated those boys. They had the ability to do magic and look how they used it. If he had had a wand, one that worked at any rate, he would have gotten back at them. Determination can sometimes count for more than skill.

As the days passed the kitten grew more used to Argus. She would tolerate him petting her, even if she didn't quite condone it.

Christmas that year was by far the worst Filch had ever had. Usually he was given all sorts of gifts. This year his relatives had decided to follow his mother's example: give Argus nothing.

The minuscule ball of fur scrabbled its way onto the bed, nearly falling off the blankets, but catching herself with her claws. She leaped onto Argus' chest and, with all four paws firmly planted, gave him a lick with her tiny pink tongue.

The action, so small, was the best Christmas present Argus had ever received, even better than the Silver Arrow broom he had gotten the previous year.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "if you like me this much you shall have to have a name. How does Mrs. Norris sound to you?"

A/N – I know it's supposed to be happy, but trust me it gets happier. Does anyone else have the urge to call Argus Angus? I kept accidentally typing it. I would suggest he should get a name change and become Scottish although my mother (a Scotswoman, might not approve and I would never hear the end of it) so it shall remain Argus.

**Those FictionNetters here might recognize my sister, Georgia, also known as Lady of the Lake or Mage Aurian here. As I left the room to refresh myself with yet another (I can currently count six) can of diet Coke she stealthily finished my story for me. These were the results:**

"Filchy my boy, what is wrong with you? You're acting like you aren't a wizard! You're expelled…. Here's a kitty cat to make you happy. Go have a passionate love affair with her." Since the Headmaster told him to do something, Filch took the advice and fell in love with the kitty who ended up transforming into a gorgeous girlnamed Sierra. "Oh Filch, Argy Filch. Oh, you are way too handsome for your own good… You look like Jason or Jacob with his hair spiked. Ooh Filch why be expelled? Let us elope!"

Argus smiled and got down on one knee and said, Sierra, Will you turn back into a cat and marry me?

Of course se did…. They got married and lived happily ever after. Sierra kept looking into the eyes of a spiky haired Jason (please let that be his name) And Argus kept looking into big yellow eyes of a kitty who he called (a pet name for Sierra, a very romantic one), Mrs. Norris. She called him Argyyy

And Sierra, the professor before dumbleeydore was dippet so you might wanna use that,

Lover you very much

Georgia (Aren't you happy I finished the story for you;)

**Read and Review! P.S (Jason isn't very cute but he is definitely attractive due to personality – she thinks he's ugly, just cuz she doesn't know him)**


	3. No Magic in the Corridors!

A/N Third and Final Chapter – Near epilogueness in shortness 

Chapter Three

Year after year Christmas day continued to be the same routine. Filch would wake up to discover no presents awaited him on the bottom of his bed. He had given up moping now, he knew no person really cared for him, regardless of how often Professor Dumbledore inquired as to his well-being.

Then Mrs. Norris, lamp-like eyes upturned, would jump onto the scratchy sheets and lick him. It was the only day of the year she would show him that much affection. No matter how much he petted her and spoke warmly towards her, she was still a cat, an incredibly aloof cat. That lick let him go on living. Someone loved him.

Without further celebration he would get up and prepare to stalk the corridors. After all, rules were rules, even on Christmas day. It was actually his ongoing present to Mrs. Norris for she, even more so then he, loved to catch children disobeying. It became a pleasurable game to see how many children they could catch. The unwritten rule was that a point was given every time Filch called out, "No magic in the corridors!"

**A/N** **I thought that was happy in a twisted sort of Filch like way :)**

**Reviews are always appreciated and don't forget to check out Fiction Net (sycotic . org / fnet) and say I sent you. Trust me, most people wrote really good stories mine was slightly rushed for time cough an hour and a half cough**

**Happy New Year!**


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